


Battery Acid

by IcamaneHatake



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Killjoys, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Multi, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:23:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcamaneHatake/pseuds/IcamaneHatake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Battery City is known as a haven for superheroes. Heroes live, fight, are adored, and broadcasted to the public in the city, regardless of what "side" they may be on. The latest generation of "good guys" (the Killjoys) and "bad guys" (the Victors) have been tussling with each other for the cameras. And despite the countless victims left in her wake, the mysterious Death has captured their hearts.</p><p>That is, until Heroes start showing up dead. In order to clear their friend's name, the Victors go looking for the culprit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written during CampNaNoWriMo 2012. It is dedicated to my friend Terra, who has supported the idea since it's inception and created the character of Will. You are forever my super buddy.

_Magic’s Final Disappearing Act_

_At approximately four AM this morning, authorities reported that the Hero known as Magic was found dead in his home. The forty-year-old was renowned for his capture of the criminal Shockwave and for his invisibility pranks around Battery City. No official statement has been made about the circumstances of Magic’s death, but police chief Oliver Brandt denies any rumors of a serial killer in the city._

_“Yes, Magic’s death was tragic,” Brandt stated to reporters today, “but that does not mean it is connected with any of the other Heroes in these past weeks.”_

_A funeral service is being held next Monday at the Eighth Street Mausoleum._

-

“Glorious, isn’t it?”

The tall man in the chair shook out his newspaper before folding it up and looking out over the city. 

“What is, sir?” the other, shorter man asked, handing him a martini. 

“This city. Look at how beautiful it is,” he gestured out the window. 

“It is. And it’s yours.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure?”

The shorter man hesitated, his eyes dancing between the newspaper on the coffee table and the other man’s face. “Well, you just need to look in the papers.”

The taller man smirked, obviously satisfied. “Almost. We still have a few more steps to take care of.”

“Sir? You’ve just finished off the last great superhero.”

“You forget the latest sensation of Battery City.”

The shorter man started. “You surely don’t mean… Death?”

The taller man just smirked and finished off the last of his martini.


	2. One - Gerard

**BRANDT:** _“So, Psych, right?”_

 **PSYCH:** _“Yeup.”_

 **BRANDT:** _“You’re new to the Hero scene.”_

 **PSYCH:** _“Yeah, we just started with the whole crime-fighting thing.”_

 **BRANDT:** _“We?”_

 **PSYCH:** _“The Killjoys. That’s our name.”_

-

Gerard took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and took the final step off the building. Wind rushed around him, making his black hair whip through the air and his ears pop. He counted down in his head as he neared the ground. As he passed the second level, he focused himself and felt that squeezing sensation of teleporting. He opened his eyes just as his knees buckled and he hit the roof of another building on the other side of town. He lay there, gasping for a moment, then rose and dusted himself off. 

“Another day, another jump,” he mumbled to himself. He took a seat on the edge of the building and watched the sunrise. 

Since forming the Killjoys almost four years ago, Gerard had taken every morning to go watch the sunrise. And jump off a building. He wasn’t quite sure why, other than it was beautiful and he liked having a break from the hectic life that came with being a Hero in Battery City. 

But what he would give to be normal. To not have to hide his true self all the time, to have a real job, to not worry all the time about his parents or even his little brother, because Mikey would be normal, too, or even to just have the opportunity to ask that girl out who came to the coffee shop every morning. Fuck, what he would give to be normal. 

_Come on, Gee, we both know that’s not ever going to happen._

God dammit. “Mikey, get out of my head,” Gerard muttered, pushing black hair off of his forehead. 

_We have a situation._

“Then deal with it. I’m on break.”

_It’s the Victors._

Gerard gave a start. 

_They’re down on Harrison Street. They’ve been tailing this guy._

“And is—”

_Death there? Yes, she is._

Time to go. 

_See you in a second._

Gerard pushed himself off the ledge and evaporated out of existence. 

-

“Which way, Psych?”

Gerard adjusted the red and yellow mask on his face, snugged his blazer a little bit closer. He followed close behind Ray and Frank, Bob and Noel just behind him. Mikey led the way, a hand stretched out like some kind of radar. What a way to spend a Sunday morning. 

Before Mikey could answer, they heard a strangled yell, shouting and banging coming from the one alley on the street. “Blink, Halcyon, Halo, you take the back,” Mikey whispered before he, Ray and Frank ran off into the alley. Gerard heard a whoosh as Bob whipped out his wings before Gerard teleported to the other end of the alley. 

“Give it up, old man!” he heard a harsh voice yell. “Tell us who he is!” 

_Wait for it._

Bob and Noel landed behind him, and Gerard felt for his ray gun. He could hear the hum of Noel getting an energy bolt ready and the soft movements on Bob’s wings behind him.

“Brute, we need to go.” A woman’s voice, sharp, cold and calculating. That had to be Einstein.

“Get the van going, Flora.”

_Now._

Gerard jumped up from his hiding place and went for the first person he saw – the girl with curly red hair and a green mask, Flora. She spun just as Gerard reached for her arm and before he really knew what was happening, a huge vine burst from the concrete and pinned him against the wall. 

“Blaze, we gotta go!” she yelled, and jumped in the van, narrowly missing a blast of energy from Noel. 

The fight went completely mental. As he struggled for his knife, Gerard saw flashes of flames, ice, white light, blue electricity. Bob was in the air, dodging vines shot by Flora. Noel had been blocked by Brute, and was now avoiding his rapid punches, unable to take the time to charge another shot of energy. Further down the alley, Frank and Ray were trying to take on Reverse and Blaze at the same time, but it was pretty difficult to avoid flying trashcans and fireballs simultaneously. And at the very end, he glimpsed Mikey running after a figure completely clad in black.

Death. 

Gerard struggled more now, feeling the hilt of his knife and wiggling it out. He had to get to Death. Mikey would need help. Bob had dove down into the struggle now and was going after Brute, who had knocked the man out and thrown him over his shoulder after throwing Noel against a building. As Gerard started cutting through the vine, he heard Frank scream and fly against a crate, smashing it. He lay there, unconscious. Then he saw Einstein appear, pointing her white, bulky gun at Ray.

“Frostbite, duck!” he yelled, breaking through the last of the vine and dropped to the ground. He didn’t see his ray gun, so instead he ran blindly for where Einstein was. Instead, he rounded a dumpster and was met by Blaze, blonde hair spiked and hands held up to shoot fire at him. 

“Shit,” Gerard breathed before teleporting away to the end of the alley where Mikey and Death had been. He gave a start when he landed right in front of her, and she seemed startled by him too. She truly looked like something from a comic book, clad in a tight black leather body suit and a mask that showed only her eyes and those red, deadly lips. One kiss, and you’d drop dead. 

Before Gerard had even decided what to do, she drew a knife out of her boot and charged him. His first reaction was to teleport behind her, his own knife ready. He brought down his own knife towards her, aiming for her spin right under her neck. Finally, the terror of Battery City would be brought down, and it would be all thanks to Gerard. 

But she spun and stuck up an arm to block his knife. He gashed her open and though she screamed, she kicked him in the knee and then the ribs and made her get away to their van and safety. The van squealed away and out of sight, and the morning was quiet again save the groans from his fallen comrades. Panting and rubbing his knee, Gerard stood and started to try and find Mikey.

“What the hell happened?” he asked when he found his brother, who was rubbing his head. His mask was askew and his hair messy, and he was shaking. Gerard put an arm around him and hoisted him up so he could lean against a building.

“They have a new weapon,” Mikey replied. “That girl… Einstein, or whatever… she has some sort of weird gun. It messed with my telekinesis.” 

“Is that what knocked Fr-Electron out?” Ray asked, joining them. The sleeve of his blue blazer was badly burnt, but other than that, he seemed fine. “I, uh, ran into some trouble with Reverse. Bastard was having _fun_ in this alley.” 

“I bet. Blink, you think you can get us home?” 

“Some of us,” Gerard replied, not mentioning how completely exhausted he was. Teleporting really took it out of him some mornings. He searched the alley until found his ray gun by Noel, who was examining Bob’s right wing. She had some scrapes and there was some blood in her hair, but other than that, she looked okay. Bob’s wing, however, was pretty beat up. The soft brown feathers were crunched and broken. “How is he?”

“I’m fine,” Bob grunted indignantly, but he shut his eyes tight when Noel ran her fingers along the messed up feathers.

“It’s pretty tweaked, but it’ll heal okay. Nothing’s broken, just strained,” Noel said, pushing her long black hair back. Gerard could see a large cut back behind her ear. “You won’t be flying home, that’s for sure.”

“Fucking Brute. I had that asshole, too. And then he grabbed my wing, and…”

“It’s alright, Halcyon. We all got our asses handed to us.” Gerard pulled him up to standing. “You think you can help me carry Electron? I’m gonna teleport us home.” 

“Right.” 

Thankfully, Frank was the smallest out of all of them, and was pretty easy to carry, even if he was knocked out. He was bleeding a little, but the worst it looked came from a gash on his elbow from colliding with the crate. Gerard took special care teleporting them home, and promptly collapsed to the floor when they landed, unable to catch his breath.

“You okay, Gerard?” Bob asked, not bothering to use Hero names now that they were safely inside. Bob was frowning heavily through his mask, though exactly what it was about, Gerard couldn’t tell. 

“Yeah, just… just tired. Get Frank… bandaged, will you?” Gerard gasped out, waving Bob out. Bob raised an eyebrow at him before heaving Frank off to the bathroom and the much abused first aid kit. Gerard took a few moments before pulling himself up onto a couch. 

It took the others about twenty minutes to walk back home. Gerard closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep while he listened to their soft voices and the clinks of coffee cups in the kitchen. Though, it wasn’t quite pretending as he was pretty wiped. He might actually get a full night’s sleep tonight. 

“What the hell did Einstein have?” was Ray’s question. “It knocked you both out, Mikes.”

“I dunno, but that thing packed a punch. We’ll need to watch out for that.”

“But what the real question,” Noel said, “is what were they doing with that guy?”

“I’m betting it has to do with Death and covering up her tracks,” Mikey said. “He probably knew something he shouldn’t have.”

“Like what? It’s pretty obvious that she’s the one who’s been killing Heroes.”

“Well, I _don’t know._ I just think that our objective now should be finding their hideout and flushing them out. We need to bring her down, no matter what it takes.”


	3. Two - Anette

_“January seventeenth, twenty-nineteen_

_We just heard the news. Death hasn’t left her apartment since we heard it._

_Her dad, Eon, was killed. He’s the second Hero who’s died in the past thirty days. And he, too, was killed by poison._

_I don’t think this is a coincidence. Someone’s out to get Heroes. I’m calling a meeting in half an hour. We have got to stop this, if nothing else so that Death’s name is clear. There’s not a chance she’s responsible for any of this shit._

_I just hope we can find this bastard before he kills again.”_

-

Over the past few years, Anette had been knifed several times. But none of them were as bad as this. 

“And… seventeen,” Hailey said, tying off the last stitch in Anette’s arm. Anette winced, but didn’t say anything. “Damn, you sure got fucked up.”

“Uh-huh.” Anette tested her fingers and hand movement. Everything in her left arm was aching.

“Here, let me wrap it.” Hailey went looking for the roll of gauze while Anette examined her wound in the reflective surface of the metal table. It was long and rather gnarly looking, right under the bone. Her skin throbbed from the stitches, and there was still blood on the table where Hailey had been operating. 

“Alright, last part.” Hailey was back and started wrapping Anette’s arm in the gauze. 

“Thanks, Hailey.” 

“No problem. It’s not like anyone else knows how to stitch up a wound.” 

“True.”

Anette ran her hand over the gauze, careful not to put too much pressure on it. 

“Now, on to the next project,” Hailey muttered, pulling her concussion gun out of the holster at her side and setting it on the table. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Anette asked, sliding off and starting to pick up her uniform. It would need a lot of patchwork, and fast. 

“Well, I got one good shot in with Electron. Knocked him clear out. And then it was only at half power when I shot Psych. I think the only reason it really got to him was because of his power. But after that, the damn thing died and I had to run for it.” Hailey pulled off her blazer and shrugged on a lab coat and then some goggles, preparing for electrical dissection. “I’m gonna build a new battery and rewire the thing. Can’t have it randomly dying on me in the middle of fights, right?”

“Yeah.” Anette turned to go. 

“Hey, you want me to patch your suit?” Hailey asked without looking up from her gun. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I can have it back to you tonight. You’ll have to clean it, though.”

“Deal,” Anette smiled, and she left her suit on a chair. “It’s just the left glove and sleeve is all.”

“Great,” Hailey responded, but she was already going into that deep state of concentration, so Anette left, not wanting to disturb her anymore. 

It was a long climb up the stairs from Hailey’s lab and into the sort of common room of their “evil lair.” Chase had insisted on this, mostly because there was a point in time where Hailey was playing around with radioactive materials and he was worried she might blow something up. Now, it was just silly, but they hadn’t moved in several years, so another renovation made no sense. It wasn’t like they had the money for it, either. 

As Anette made it into the room, panting slightly, she saw Will sitting on the wall, reading a book so old it looked like it might crumble into dust at any second. 

“How’s the arm?” he asked, glancing up at her. 

“Okay now.”

“You’re gonna have to come up with a damn good story to cover this one.”

“I know,” Anette replied, slightly irritated. 

“If you didn’t insist on working, it wouldn’t be a problem,” Will continued casually. “You hate your job, anyways.”

“But I, unlike everyone else—”

“Besides Hailey.”

“— _besides_ Hailey, have a cover to uphold. That’s half the reason I’m here, isn’t it? I get the best of both worlds.” She mumbled the last part bitterly to herself. 

“Can’t you just move or fake your death or something?”

“Can’t you just sit in a chair like a normal person?” 

“That is completely different,” Will replied pointedly. “I _like_ sitting on the wall. You, on the other hand, hate pretending to be normal.”

Anette was about to retort when she heard Chase calling her. “Death, I need to see you in my room.”

She sighed and started for the stairs down into Chase’s room. “Glad you’re feeling better, anyways,” Will called out after her. She just waved her hand at him. 

Anette knew better than to touch the metal railing in Chase’s staircase. His room radiated heat like Arizona in the summer, and she had had enough injuries for the day. She used the toe of her boot to open his door and peaked inside. 

“There you are. What took so long?” he asked as she let herself in, already sweating. 

“Nothing, just… having a chat with Will.”

Chase’s light blue eyes narrowed. “Reverse.”

“Right, sorry.” It took a lot of effort not to be sarcastic with him. 

“So, it was Blink who slashed you, right?” Chase went on, mentioning to Anette’s arm. 

“Yes, and don’t worry. The mission isn’t compromised.”

“Are you sure?”

“A hundred and ten percent.” 

They locked eyes for a while, like Chase was trying to figure out if she was lying or not. Finally, he said, “And when are you starting?”

“I make my first move tomorrow morning, eight thirty sharp.” 

He smirked slightly. “You’re good.”

“At spying, yeah. It’s kind of my job.” 

There was another moment of silence before he said, “Okay then. We’ll call you if we need anything. You should get some rest.”

“Okay, will do,” Anette said, and then left the sweltering room as quickly as possible. She wasn’t going to rest. Instead, she was going to shower and come up with a damn good cover story for her arm. Then she might rest. 

-

Most weekdays started the same for Anette. She woke up in her small (but charming) apartment, which was just two blocks away from the Victors’ hideout. She showered, put on makeup, her signature pink lipstick (which turned slightly magenta because of the poison), and whatever clothes she felt like wearing to work that day. Next breakfast, contemplating life, then off for a day at work that started with a coffee stop and a trip up an elevator to the law office that she worked in. 

But this morning, Anette took special care in her appearance. Today was the day she made her first move on Blink, and she had to look exquisite. She even curled her already wavy white-blonde hair, and took extra time with the mascara. The perfect skirt, heels, and cleavage-revealing blouse. She even filed her nails. 

In her final inspection in front of the mirror, Anette frowned. Even though she thought she looked pretty good, it wasn’t her. She looked fake, but then again, that’s what she was. Fake. Fakely normal, going to fake flirt with this guy and fake date him and fake liking him, all to get some information out of him that would fakely not matter to her fake life. 

God damn this cycle. If she had just been born _normal_ , this wouldn’t have been a problem at all. Maybe she could have actually fallen in love with someone. 

Fat chance that was going to happen when everyone you kissed died. 

Without further pondering, she left for the kitchen to grab a bagel, her keys, purse, and phone, and then strolled out the door. 

As she approached the coffee shop, Anette actually felt a little nervous. What if he didn’t talk to her? What could she possibly say to spark a conversation? 

Then she shook these doubts out of her mind. She had studied to be an actress for a while, and had been told she was pretty good at it. She knew how to improvise. 

She entered the café at the same time she always did, eight twenty. And as always, he was behind the counter, a green apron tied over his dark clothes (a band shirt, Anette had always assumed), brushing strands of his stringy black hair behind his ears. He glanced up at her as she reached the counter and smiled hesitantly. They were roughly the same height, so his gaze caught Anette’s for a moment before she adverted her eyes to the menu above his head. She hated how those hazel eyes always stared at her – with some sort of longing. 

“The usual?” he asked, still trying to catch her eye. 

“Yes, please,” Anette replied, the money already in her hand – a medium chai latté was $3.78, and she always dumped the change in the tip jar. It was the least she could do, considering that Andrew and Chase liked to steal from people so often. 

“Here you go.” Anette took the beverage, paid, dumped the change. “Have a good day.” He sounded a little reluctant to let her walk away to her usual corner table. 

“You, too,” Anette said, flashing him a smile she hoped sent him swooning before walking over to get a lid. With any luck though, she’d be talking to him in about another twenty seconds. 

As she tried to put a lid on, she purposefully bumped the drink and it spilled all over the floor. The few customers in the café looked up and rolled their eyes at her – stupid girl, clean it up. “Crap,” she muttered for effect, gathering up a wad full of napkins and preparing to start cleaning. 

“Let me get the mop, that’ll be faster.” It was him, the only employee on duty apparently, and he was helping her. So far, operation Spy On Blink was starting smoothly. Or messily, whichever way you looked at it.

“Thanks, you really didn’t need to,” Anette said, giving him a relieved smile.

“No, no, it’s my job.” He was avoiding her eyes now, and there was a slight blush rising on his pale face. When it was all cleaned up, he scuttled back behind the counter and Anette was forced to take her normal seat with the morning paper. Without a chai. What a waste.

The front page had a follow-up article about Magic’s death. No matter what some people liked to believe, Anette wasn’t responsible for this… _shit_ that was going on. All these great Heroes had been dropping like flies, and from poison, too. The media headlines could speculate and accuse all they wanted, but Anette was pretty sure she wouldn’t kill her own father. He had been the second victim, almost six months ago, and was now the reason the Victors were even bothering involving themselves in this business. 

Anette was about to see if there was anything about the man they had not-so-graciously kidnapped yesterday when a new, steaming latté was set down on her table. She looked up to see him standing there, clearly nervous. Her hot girl disguise was working its magic. “On the house,” he said, smiling awkwardly. 

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” He shrugged and made to leave. “Hey, why don’t you sit with me. It’s not like the place is crawling with customers or anything.” Please, please just take the bait. 

He paused, thinking. “Well, I… guess I could take a _little_ break,” he said, slipping into the seat across from her. 

Anette smiled the best smile she could manage. Which was quite good, mostly because she practiced. “And really, thank you.” She toasted him with the chai before taking a sip – perfect. He sure knew how to make a drink. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Well… I mean, it was an accident, right?”

‘ _Well… sorta,_ ’ she thought coyly. 

“So I couldn’t ask you to pay for another.” He looked away when the door jingled, but it was just someone leaving. “Um… so, uh, what happened to your arm? If you don’t mind me asking,” he added hastily. 

That stupid wrap. It was still throbbing, even though the first thing she had done when she woke up was down some pain killers. She almost told him it was none of his business, but then remembered her cover story. Making herself blush, she said, “It’s pretty stupid… honestly? I, um… slipped and put my fist through my shower door yesterday. Had to go to the ER and everything.”

He looked shocked. Anette would be too if she was honestly that clumsy. But at least he believed her. “Wow, that’s…”

“A total blonde thing to do?”

“I was going to say hardcore.”

Anette laughed lightly, shifting around a little so her blouse was the slightest bit more open. “Glad you think so highly of me.” He laughed super awkwardly again and she almost couldn’t take it. This guy was so weird. She also pretended that she didn’t see his eyes flick down to her chest and instead frowned intently at his face in faux deep thought. 

“Wh-what?” he asked, eyes flicking nervously between her face and the coffee cup in front of her. He didn’t respond well under pressure in the real world. Typical.

“Sorry, I just… do I know you from somewhere?”

“Well, I’m always working when you come in—”

“But it’s more than that.” Anette lightly bit her bottom lip, careful not to let her teeth take off even a tiny bit of that lipstick. One slip of the red, and it would be all over. “I mean… you’re not, like, secretly famous, are you?”

His laugh was super nasally this time. Ick. “Well… would you believe me if I told you I’m a Hero?”

She studied his face again. Thin lips, heavy eyebrows. Both things she didn’t really find attractive. Then said, “Yes. You don’t look the part, or act it for that matter, but… I would believe you.” 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not. He glanced around, then leaned in and whispered, “I’m Blink.”

Even though she already knew, hearing him admit it out loud to her filled her with some sort of excitement. “Really? You’re… oh my God, you _are._ ”

Blink blushed, once again letting his eyes trail over her body. “I’m surprised you even recognized me. My brother usually gets all the attention.”

“Psych?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I know how it feels,” Anette said, draining the chai. She didn’t know what compelled her to be honest at this point, but it just felt right. “My whole family’s Heroes, but I’m not, so I get forgotten about. Even when I was a kid.”

Blink looked like he was about to say something, but Anette checked her phone – time to go. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get to work.”

He looked disappointed, but right as she stood up, he asked. “Will… can… can I have your number?”

Anette smiled her practiced smile, and said, “Sure.” His expression brightened as she wrote it and her name on a napkin and handed it to him, making sure that their hands brushed. “I’ll see you… well, tomorrow, I guess.”

“Yeah, um… see you. I’ll call or text you or something… sometime.”

“Any time.” And then she left for work and he went back to his. 

Outside, Anette smiled something deadly. 

Phase One, complete.


	4. Three - Gerard

**BRANDT:** _“Is it weird, fighting crime with your brother?”_

 **PSYCH:** _“With Blink? Not a chance. I feel safest when I know he’s got my back.”_

 **BRANDT:** _“Why doesn’t he come out and talk to us? I think we’ve had everyone except your escape artist brother.”_

 **PSYCH:** _“Blink doesn’t like the spotlight. Besides, it’s just not his style.”_

 **BRANDT:** _“What’s his style, then?”_

 **PSYCH:** _“Going out there and kicking some ass instead of sitting around and talking about it.”_

-

_Dude, I did it. I fucking did it._

_Did what?_

_You know that super hot blonde that gets coffee every morning?_

_…yeah?_

_I got her number._

It took a few minutes for Mikey to respond to that text. 

_What? Are you serious?_

_Yes I’m fucking serious!_

_Congrats, bro. That’s kind of awesome._

_Just kind of?_

_Fine. Really awesome. I mean, this is you we’re talking about._

_What’s that supposed to mean?_

_Gotta go. Prof just walked in._

And then Mikey really did stop texting him. So half an hour later, he texted Ray. 

_Ray, you’ll NEVER guess what happened._

_You got that girl’s number, right?_

_…fuck you._

_Sorry. Mikey told us before he left for class._

_That son of a bitch._

_But hey, that’s really cool. Are you gonna ask her out?_

_You think I should?_

_Fuck yes you should. Why wouldn’t you?_

_….Ray, I’m me._

_So? You’re awesome._

_Do we have a rule against dating civilians?_

_Not that I’m aware of._

_Mikey was also really surprised that it even happened._

_Well, nothing wrong with you. *nothing’s_

_…Ray_

_I mean… you’re a little awkward. That’s all._

_Thanks._

_But you’re cool. Just… okay, later tonight, text her and ask if she wants to go to lunch with you this week. Baby steps, yeah?_

_I guess. Thanks._

_See you later. Oh, and Mikey said we’re having a meeting tonight at like, 6. So be home by then._

_Yes Mommie._

_:P Bye._

_Yeah, yeah._

-

The kitchen table had a huge map of Battery City spread out on it, the corners held down by coffee cups and one of Frank’s boots. Mikey was the only one standing, his hands planted firmly on the table and his eyes looking over the map with such intensity that Gerard wondered if he was trying to read the map’s mind or something. Frank fiddled with the lacing on the boot that was on the table, and Ray watched him. Bob and Noel were on their phones, playing each other at Scrabble. And Gerard just sat quietly next to Mikey, looking at the map but not actually seeing it, thinking about what he was going to text to Anette. 

_Anette._ He liked how his mouth moved when he said her name. 

Finally, Mikey grabbed the red marker sitting in front of Ray and drew a big circle around about ten blocks in the south east side of town, not too far from where Gerard worked. “Here,” Mikey said, running a hand through his blonde and brown hair. “It’s definitely here.”

“What makes you think that?” Frank asked, looking up from the boot and peering over the map. 

“They always go south east, and I spent half the day walking the town down there. People know things that not even they know they know.”

“What?” 

“Point is, Frank, people think things. They notice things. They see the Victors in this area all the time. And Gerard said he’s seen them over there before.”

“Yeup,” Gerard supplied unhelpfully. 

“So… what’s the plan, o wise leader?” Bob asked, looking up at Mikey and stuffing his phone in his pocket. 

“We need to start inspecting the area. We’ve got to catch them before Death can kill anyone else.”

The tension in the room mounted, the atmosphere got a little more serious. 

“Mikey, I mean, what do we do when we find them?” Bob asked. “It’s not just Death that’s the problem. They’re all an issue. And besides, we should find out what we can about them, because who knows if there are more of them or how the hell we can fight them. If I remember correctly, the last time there was a fight, they handed us our asses on a silver platter.”

Everyone was silent, their eyes on Mikey while he thought. Finally, he sighed and sat down in the remaining chair. “I… I have a kind of idea, but… no, we’d better not.”

“What?” Bob asked, his eyes fixed dangerously on Mikey. Mikey almost never hesitated. 

“Well… what if one of us got kidnapped.”

‘ _What the fuck?_ ’ Gerard thought, and judging by everyone’s faces, Bob and Mikey were the only ones who _weren’t_ thinking that. 

“And they were held in their base,” Bob added. 

“And Mikey could read that person’s mind…” Noel was the first one to catch on. 

“And then we could sweep in and save them, and then take out the Victors, all at the same time,” Mikey finished, running his hands through his hair again. 

“It’s dangerous,” Ray said slowly, frowning.

“And that’s the problem. I don’t want anyone to get seriously injured over this.” Mikey actually looked upset. “We’ve gotten in fights with them in the past, yeah. Frank has had a concussion, Bob broke a leg once, and Gerard was poisoned. But that’s been the worst. And I… I think that if we break into their base, we’re going to cross some lines.”

They were quiet again. Everyone was looking at the circle on the map, trying not to picture the others dead. Finally, Bob spoke up again. “I’ll do it.”

“What? No,” Frank practically yelled, outraged. “You can’t do that.”

“Frank, no one else is going to,” Bob said coolly. “And besides, I’ll be fine. I’ve been kidnapped before. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, but…” Noel looked nervous now, her black eyebrows pushed together and her teeth slightly chewing on her lower lip. “But Bob, what if… what if they kill you?”

Bob shrugged. “They won’t kill me. The problem will be when you guys break in to save me. That’s when things will get ugly.”

“But we’ll be okay,” Gerard said, pushing black hair behind his ears. “We always are. We’ll just go in there, kick some ass, and bring them to justice. Especially Death.” 

“Right. And we don’t need to do it now. We’ll plan a little more, maybe a few more weeks, and then make a move,” Bob said, shooting Mikey a quick look. 

Mikey thought for another moment before saying, “I guess. We’ll see what happens.”

That was the end of the meeting. Mikey rolled up the map, Frank took his boot back, and everyone dispersed. Soon, only Mikey and Gerard were left in the kitchen. Mikey was making a last pot of coffee and Gerard had pulled out his phone. Six thirty four. Surely Anette was done at work now?

He stared at his screen for a while, unsure of how to go about texting her. Finally, he settled with, “ _Hey Anette, it’s Blink,_ ” and set his phone on the table, anxiously waiting for it to light up and start beeping. 

“So, have you talked to her yet?” Mikey asked, sliding Gerard a fresh cup of coffee. 

“Just texted her.”

“Good.” They were silent while Mikey sipped his coffee. Then he said, “You know I think it’s great, right?”

“Yeah,” Gerard responded distractedly. His eyes were still glued to his phone. “Thanks.”

“Gee, I’m not joking.” Mikey was giving him that serious look. “I think it’s good for you.”

Gerard looked up and frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know you. You don’t like being a Hero.”

“I never said I didn’t like it—”

“I know.”

“I don’t like you in my head, Mikes,” Gerard said quietly, his hands shaking. 

“I worry about you.”

“That’s no fucking excuse.”

“Gerard, it’s beside the point—”

“No Mikey, it _is_ the point.”

“And _my_ point is, I think she’ll be good for you.” Mikey was staring right at Gerard, not even flinching at his rage. “I think she’ll be an excellent source of normal, normal that you _need._ ”

“We’ve never had normal. You know that,” Gerard growled. 

“Exactly. Maybe she’s the starting point,” Mikey said before taking a big gulp of coffee. “Gee, I just want you to be happy.”

Gerard sighed shakily. “You can start by—”

He was cut off by his phone lighting up and buzzing against the table. 1 new text message. Gerard picked it up, but didn’t open it. 

“You gonna answer her?” Mikey asked. When Gerard didn’t respond, he said, “Okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, night.” He waited until Mikey had rinsed his mug and left for their room before he looked at Anette’s message. 

_Hey! What’s up?_

_Nothing much. You?_

She was quick to respond. _I just got home from work._

_Ouch. Bad day?_

_Not really, just had a lot of extra work to do._

_I’m sorry._

_It’s fine._

_But hey um so do you want to have lunch with me some time this week?_

_Oh, sure! I’m only working a half day Wednesday, so could you meet me at my office?_

_Awesome! And yeah, when and where?_

_About noon, four blocks west of the coffee shop. I work on the 14th floor of the Markson building._

_Okay, I can do that._

_Sounds great! So, I guess I’ll see you… tomorrow morning?_

_Yeah._

_Cool. I’m gonna make dinner now._

_Alright. See you then._

_Bye._

Gerard shoved his phone in his pocket and sighed. He couldn’t believe it. He _actually_ had a date with her, Anette, his practical dream girl. How the fuck he had ever gotten so lucky, he didn’t know, but he begged some unknown power to not let his luck run out. With his reputation, this was just the beginning, and he would need all the luck he could get.


	5. Four - Anette

_January twentieth, twenty nineteen_

_Death talked to me today finally. She had bandages on both her arms, and we haven’t been in a fight in about three weeks. She told me that she’s been cutting since New Years, experimenting with suicide._

_I don’t know what to do. For the first time in my life, I honestly don’t know what to do._

_I told her we’d work through it together, that maybe I could take a look at her blood to see if I could find a cure for the poison. She agreed, and now I’ve got three vials of blood in an analyzer, two in a separator, and the last one under a microscope._

_I really wish she would have talked to me about this sooner._

-

Anette wished with all her heart that she could quit her job, but that wasn’t possible. It was the only thing she could find close enough to her house that she could actually _do._ If she didn’t kill people by kissing them, she would have been following her dream of being on stage. 

So this was how she was stuck in a law office, filing papers and making phone calls for a bunch of stuck up lawyers who thought she didn’t have any brains because she was blonde and a woman. 

She might be dyslexic, but she wasn’t stupid. 

The other thing she hated was the actual location. Buildings were okay. Ground floors were okay. Fourteen (or actually, thirteen, because people were stupid and superstitious) stories up in the air were not. 

The most terrifying way Anette could think of to die would be falling from a great height. She would rather get stabbed or shot in the stomach and bleed out slowly than go splat on the ground. It was the one suicide method she had never even considered because she knew she would never do it. 

Actually, retracing her thoughts, quitting her job wasn’t her deepest desire. The sharp letter opener she was turning over with her fingers reminded her of that. 

She wanted to stop hurting people. 

“Anette, stop messing around and get these papers filed. I need everything perfect for the Davis case,” snapped the man who walked up to her desk and dropped a very large stack of loose papers on it. He smoothed out his blonde hair and straightened his tie, narrowing his eyes at Anette until she set down the letter opener. 

“Yes sir, Mr. Frenz. Straight away.” She kept her tone as professional and compromising as possible. The last thing she wanted to do was make him angry. 

“Good. See me when you’re done. And if anyone calls, send them to my voicemail. I’ll be in a meeting with Davis’s wife.” And with that, Frenz was gone, and Anette sighed at the stack of papers. This was going to take ages. 

Though they were on a new electronic filing system, lots of things still had to be filed by hand, and the scanner on the Xerox machine was so, so slow. But standing around, mindlessly scanning documents onto a thumb drive gave Anette a lot of time to think. 

She had a lot more work to do tonight. That was certain. Though, how much would depend on how cooperative this guy was planning on being. She rubbed her lips together in a semi-conscience habit, making sure there was plenty of lipstick on them. 

Suddenly, the thought of Blink popped into her head. His lanky black hair. Hazel eyes. Pallid skin. She didn’t know why he was in her mind, but the more she thought about him, the less creepy he seemed. Maybe a little endearing. His eyes were very pretty, too. Today had been her first real close-up, and they were a stunning amber. 

‘ _Stop thinking like that,_ ’ Anette scolded herself. ‘ _He’s an interrogation target. You’re not allowed to be attracted to him._ ’

But at least nice eyes would make pretending to like him a little easier. 

-

“So, I’m asking about a name,” Anette clarified as she and Dawn took another long staircase down into the earth. This one led to the interrogation room. 

“Anything about the killings, really, but a name would be best,” Dawn shrugged. “At least, that’s what Chase is hoping for. Even if it’s just a Hero name, we can figure it out from there.”

“And Hailey knows I’m here, right?”

“She’s a buzz away if you accidently give him too much.”

There was even a possibility she could kill her interrogation victim, and she was _supposed_ to be kissing him. Why was life this way?

“Good luck,” was the last thing Dawn said before Anette sighed and pulled the hood of her black suit over her face and tucked her hair in. Hailey had done a spectacular job with the patch, but her arm looked a little awkward because bulky bandages and tight leather don’t mix well. 

The man was sitting calmly at the table inside the steel room, shackled to his chair and not even bothering to try and escape. It was like he had been planning on being here. 

“So, you’re the famous Death, are you?” he asked as Dawn shut the door behind Anette with a very loud creak and thud. “Or is that infamous?”

“I guess it depends on how you look at it,” Anette said with a seductive smile. She had yet to meet a man who could resist those red lips pulled up in a perfectly sexy way. “Am I a murderer, or a sex icon?”

“Both, I guess,” he answered, shrugging. But his eyes were locked on her lips and Anette couldn’t help but smile a little bigger. “So, what’s this about?”

“Oh, I think we both know that you’ve already worked that out,” Anette said coyly.

The man smirked. Anette wished she knew his name. That would make things a little easier. “The Hero murders, right?”

“Correct.”

“And you think I know something about them.” He laughed. “Well, sweetheart, you’re outta luck, ‘cuz I’ve got nothing.”

“We both know that’s a lie.” Anette’s smile didn’t falter, but she locked eyes with him and he tensed a little. “Now, I want you to tell me who this person is. And you have ten seconds to talk unless you want to suffer.”

“I’m not afraid of dying,” he said, shifting around, making the shackles clink unpleasantly.

“Oh no, I won’t kill you.” Anette’s laugh sounded sweetly evil. “No, you’ll just experience a Hell worse than anything you could imagine.”

He shivered, but he was holding his ground. “Do your worst.”

“I plan to.”

Slowly, Anette stood and walked around the table to stand next to him. The only sounds were his shallow breathing and the click of her heels on the stone floor. She grabbed his head and bent down to kiss him on the cheek before walking out. 

It only took eight seconds before the man was screaming in pain. 

As the door slammed shut behind her, Anette went straight to the wall and sunk down against in, pulling her knees up to her chest. She pulled off her mask and let her hair loose and tumbling down over her shoulders. 

Why did it always come to this? If people knew what she could do, then why didn’t they just give up the information when she asked nicely? 

And then there was this fear, this terrible fear that some corner of her mind was sick and twisted and _liked_ this, liked hurting people. She didn’t want to hurt people. But what if her true nature _did?_

“God, that’s disgusting.” Anette looked up and saw Hailey sitting at the computer, watching what was going on in the room. “I’m _not_ cleaning that up.” Anette closed her eyes and tried to block out all sound, especially the screams and sickly sounds that were coming from the interrogation room. “Anette, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… fine,” Anette lied, her throat sticking. Now _she_ wanted to throw up. She was a sick, sick person.

“Wow, okay. I thought you knew I wasn’t stupid.” She felt Hailey walk over and sit down next to her. “What’s wrong? Feeling guilty? The mission went okay yesterday.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…. everything.” Saying it out-loud made tears sting at Anette’s eyes, but she refused to cry. Especially not in front of Hailey. “I don’t want to be this way, Hailey. I hate hurting people, especially when I’m _forced_ to do it. Accidently is bad enough.”

Hailey shifted around, probably pushing her hair out of her face. “Look, the sooner we figure out who’s killing Heroes, the sooner we get to stop our investigation. And then you can lay low.”

“But I… I just hating knowing that I’ve done all these things, and that I could _still_ do them,” Anette replied, defeated. She looked over at Hailey, who had an intense look of concern on her face.

“Well, don’t do anything stupid, because I think I’ve got the lipstick ready.”

Anette’s eyes widened. “Re-really?”

“Yes. I mean, I still have testing to do, but I’m thinking by the end of the week, you should be good to go forth in your spying. But no Frenching or blow jobs,” she said breezily. 

“Yeah, no, don’t worry.” Anette couldn’t believe it. Finally, _finally,_ something that might help her out. Maybe the next step was a total cure. 

“Anette, I mean, this isn’t a promise for like, a total cure, but it’s a step. Okay? Just a step.”

“I get it.”

“So I don’t want you to throw all your faith in me.” Hailey looked unhappy with how quickly Anette had stood up. “Even I can be wrong.”

But Anette didn’t hear that. She was already up the stairs and headed for home, filled with the first hint of hope she had experienced in a very, very long time.


	6. Five - Gerard

**BRANDT:** _“I don’t know if I can actually ask you about this…”_

 **PSYCH:** _“Well, I’ll answer if I can, then. Ask whatever.”_

 **BRANDT:** _“Alright then… are Heroes allowed to have personal lives?”_

 **PSYCH:** _“Like what?”_

 **BRANDT:** _“Like… intimate lives. Date civilians. That sort of thing.”_

 **PSYCH:** _“Well… I mean, it’s not unheard of. Eon married a civilian.”_

 **BRANDT:** _“That’s true.”_

 **PSYCH:** _“It just doesn’t happen very often because it’s really, really hard. It’s hard to go out and fight and not worry about if your other is going to be okay, and then you feel like you should be protecting them instead and you get distracted. But on the other hand, it’s nice to have someone who makes you feel normal.”_

-

“Flowers. I should fuckin’ buy her flowers.”

The thought had struck Gerard quite suddenly. He was a little ahead of schedule for their date anyways, and then the scent of the flower store he passed on his way to Anette’s office was just… well, he needed to buy her some. So he pushed his way into the shop with the tinkling on a small bell. 

Inside, the smell was a strong mixture between potting soil and floral scents that overpowered his nose. Gerard frowned a little, but wove his way through the maze of foliage to the back of the store where the counter was. 

“Hello?” called out a woman’s voice. Gerard rounded the last display of roses and saw a woman with long, black hair that he recognized. 

“Shirley?”

“Blink, hi!” she said, smiling kindly at him. She looked a lot less exhausted than the last time he had seen her, which was good.

“Hi, I didn’t know this was your shop.”

“Well, you found me. What do you need?”

“I, uh… I need to buy some flowers.”

She smiled wryly this time. “For a girl?”

Gerard felt his cheeks heat up immediately. “Um, yeah. I uh… I have a date, and…”

“What kind of girl is she?” Shirley asked, turning and starting to dig through the cooled storage areas behind her. 

“Uh… uh…” Gerard couldn’t think of a single word that described Anette. “She’s… a pretty girl?”

Shirley snorted. “Noel was right, you are hopeless.”

“Um, okay then, just… colorful flowers, I guess.”

“Blink, don’t worry about it. Just give me a minute.” 

Gerard milled around looking at different types of lilies while Shirley gathered up a bouquet for him and his hopeless self. She gave him a discount, and he handed over the crumpled bills in his pocket before taking the flowers and setting off for Anette’s office. 

“Thanks, Shirley!” 

“Any time, Blink.” 

He checked his phone as he walked quickly down the street towards the Markson building. He had two minutes to get there. Swearing under his breath, he picked up his pace, clutching the flowers tightly in his left hand as his right gently pushed people out of his way. 

The Markson building was a steel and glass monstrosity of a building that boasted 97 floors to its name. Gerard only knew it because he looked out over the city every morning from its rooftop before going about his day. Gerard had never known Anette worked there until yesterday. _‘My stalking skills aren’t quite as sharp as they should be,’_ Gerard joked with himself as he shoved his way through the spinning glass door. 

“Can I help you?”

The sharp, cold voice made Gerard stop in his tracks before he could make it halfway across the lobby. He turned to see a woman in her thirties behind the help desk, wearing a sharp grey suit and had her brown hair pulled back tight. She scowled at Gerard as he approached her, and he locked eyes definitely. No way this lady was going to get between him and the date of his life. 

“Sir, do you have an appointment?” she asked, inspecting his thrown together “nice clothes” with a snide face. 

“Yes, I do,” Gerard replied defiantly. “I’m picking up one of the secretaries for lunch.”

She gave a slight cough that Gerard took as a laugh. “And who does this _secretary_ work for?”

“I dunno, she’s on the fourteenth floor.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Bullshit, just let me take an elevator—”

“Sir, if you can’t give me a name—”

“—I can just get her in two seconds—”

“—before I call security—”

“Blink!” 

Anette’s voice echoed across the lobby, and Gerard smirked in triumph. The lady raised her eyebrows incredulously as Anette walked up, slightly breathy. “Ready?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am,” Gerard replied, and they left without a single glance back. 

“These are for you,” Gerard said once they were back out on the street, handing her the flowers. Anette’s eyes lit up as she received them, giving him a brief moment to inspect her. Grey skirt, loose white blouse, and the purple lipstick as always. With the heels on, they were the same height. 

“These are beautiful! Thank you,” she smiled, and hugged him. Gerard’s face heated up from the unexpected contact. 

“Yeah, no… no problem,” he managed to stutter out. “So uh, where do you want to go? We can go anywhere you like.”

“Anywhere?” Anette asked, raising her eyebrows in a playful challenge. 

“Yeah. Anywhere in the world, even,” Gerard replied, deciding to play along. Though, truth be told, he was a bit nervous about where this conversation was going. 

“In the world? Hmm…” He watched a mischievous smile form on her perfect lips. “So if I said I wanted to eat lunch in Paris…?”

“Uh, um… well… i-it’s about dinner time there, so I guess so.” Gerard’s face heated up as he ducked into an alleyway. She followed him, and he held out a hand to her. “Hang on to me.” It took every ounce of nerve for him to pull her into his arms, but she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight, her eyes shut and face buried in his shoulder. “Paris it is.”

Gerard concentrated on the exact spot he wanted to take them, tightened his grip on Anette, and they vanished into thin air. 

The squeezing sensation seemed to last so, so much longer than usual. Gerard was about to get concerned when it stopped and wind whipped his hair into his face. He couldn’t help but smile as he let his grip loosen on Anette. 

“Alright, here we are. _Paris_ , the City of Love. Or something like that, right?”

Gerard looked for the expression of awe and joy that would spread across Anette’s face, but it never came.

Instead, she began hyperventilating. 

“What, what’s wrong?” he asked her urgently, making her face him. 

“Hei-heights,” she gasped out, gripping his jacket, her knuckles turning white as she tried to squeeze her eyes permanently shut.

“Okay, okay, uh… hang on, we’re going down.” He wrapped his arms around her again and they popped down to the base of the Eiffel Tower rather than the top, but Gerard didn’t let quite go of her. “It’s okay, we’re on the ground. Promise.”

He could feel Anette’s breathing slowly start to become normal, but she still clung to him like her life depended on it. Gerard felt his face heating up, awkwardness creeping all over his body. 

“So-sorry about that,” he said when she peaked open her eyes to make sure he was telling the truth. “If I’d have known—”

“It’s… it’s alright. I didn’t tell you.” She released her grip on his arms and he did as well, letting his arms fall heavily to his side. She started straightening herself out, adjusting her clothes, patting her hair into place, and finally sighed, taking in her surroundings. “Wow. You did it. This is… this is actually Paris.”

“Yeah, it sure is.” Gerard grinned. Seeing her awe now more than made up for moments ago. “Shall we find somewhere to eat?” 

He offered her his arm she took it, and they were off, wandering the streets of Paris in the setting sun. “This is so… wow, that smells good,” Anette said, sniffing the air. “Everything is kind of amazing.”

“Sure is. Hey, let me stop here, I need to exchange some money.” Gerard steered them towards a bank that looked like it was about to close. Anette waited for him near the front while he approached the only open teller, mentally screaming, _‘Mikey!’_

_‘Yeah, what is it?’_

_‘Well, I’m kind of in Paris, I need you to walk me through what to say to exchange money.’_

He knew Mikey was somewhere, rolling his eyes, but he told Gerard what to say and Gerard stumbled his way through speaking French, earning a snippy response, but the appropriate amount of money and he was on his way. 

_‘Why are you in Paris?’_

_‘I’m on a date.’_

_‘In Paris.’_

_‘Yeah. Look, I’ll call you again if I need anything. I think I can order food.’_

“Ready?” Anette asked, and Gerard nodded. “Great, there’s a restaurant just over there. Shall we try it?”

“Sure.”

The restaurant was just starting to slip into the busy hour, the amber light combined with the dull roar of conversation setting a rather warm and pleasant atmosphere. The waiter seated them and Gerard stumbled through drink orders before they were left to decide on what kind of dinner they would be having. 

“What kind of food do you like?” Gerard asked, scanning the menu. He wished he knew French as well as Mikey. 

“Anything, really. I’m not terribly picky.” Anette’s eyes scanned over the menu. “Besides, this is gibberish to me. I can pick out a few words that are similar to Spanish, but that’s it.”

“Well, good, because who knows what we will actually get. I know like, the common stuff, but what exactly is garnishing this chicken, I have no clue.” Gerard squinted at the words, thinking that if he concentrated hard enough, their meanings would suddenly spring to mind.

“How do you know this, anyways?” 

“My brother speaks French, so I kind of picked up some stuff. It’s useful to know, you know?”

“Obviously,” she said, smiling. 

The waiter approached again, setting their drinks down. He said something that Gerard hoped was a question about what they wanted, so he replied, “Nous voulons, le…” Pronunciation escaped him so he pointed at the menu and tagged on a, “s’il vous plait.” 

“Oui, Monsieur,” he replied, scribbling on the notepad in his hand. 

“Merci.” He left, and Anette giggled. “What?” Gerard asked defensively. “What did I say?”

“Nothing, just… his face.” She giggled again. “The waiter. You could tell he knew you weren’t French, and he was kind of laughing at you. But like, a good laugh,” she assured him. “Like, ‘Cute little American, trying to speak French,’ kind of laugh.”

“Great,” Gerard laughed, blowing on his coffee before taking a drink. “Excellent impression.”

“It’s fine. Just funny,” she said, sipping water. Gerard can’t help but notice how she stuck her pinky out when she griped the cup. Adorable.

It took long enough to get their food that Gerard was just about to ask for it when their waiter was back with two plates. “Bon apatite,” he said, then he refilled their drinks and left. 

Gerard looked down at the plate and found himself very… surprised. Grilled vegetables, teaming with flavor – that looked excellent. Some fresh bread sat to the side (that was expected). But then, right in the middle…

“Are these… snails?” Anette asked, poking one of the browned shells on her plate.

“I believe the term is _escargot,_ ” Gerard responded, picking one up. Sure, the _idea_ of eating snails was kind of gross in some ways, but at the same time, he’d always wondered what it tasted like. 

_‘Just do it,’_ Mikey encouraged, almost snidely. _‘It’s about as weird as eating frog legs.’_

_‘Dammit Mikey, fuck right off. I’m on a date.’_

“Well, let’s try them, shall we?” Gerard said, taking a deep breath. He held up the snail to his mouth, the smell trickling into his nose. It was so foreign that he wasn’t sure if it was tasty or disgusting. 

“On three?” Anette suggested, and he nodded. They locked eyes, and on their third nod together, they took the plunge. 

There was a lot of flavor, and that’s the thing Gerard noticed right away. Then there was this slightly slimy texture, and then the basil taste came back, along with maybe some rosemary, and then some chewiness, and Gerard had no idea if he actually enjoyed it or not. 

“It tastes… kinda sea-food-y,” Anette said, setting the empty shell down. 

“Yeah, it does. I totally didn’t mean to order snails, by the way. I-I guess I pointed at the wrong thing.” Gerard was thankful that the lighting cast odd shadows and turned their faces shadowy, because he was turning a bright shade of red. 

“It’s alright. It’s something new, you know?” she reassured him, picking up a second snail. “It’s not every day you get to eat snails in _Paris_ with a superhero, after all,” she added, winking. 

It took Gerard a few minutes to come up with a response to that. “Maybe… maybe my French was so bad, the waiter was like, ‘I’ll give them snails instead.’ He’s like, subtly telling us to _escargot the hell home, stupid Americans_ or something.” 

_‘Dude. That was bad, even for you.’_

_‘Seriously, Mikes.’_

But Anette snorted while she drank and held her hand to her nose, presumably trying to keep liquid from squirting out. She shook with giggles. “Oh god, _yes,_ ” she said, looking at the plate of snails and laughing some more. “That was brilliant.”

Gerard grinned, laughing as well, but mostly himself. 

The conversation loosened up after that. They talked quietly, but laughed often, made several more _escargot_ puns, and Gerard found himself at ease with her. This date was going pretty damn well, especially compared to how he thought this was going to turn out. 

When they finished, Gerard paid the bill and tip with the entirety of the money had had exchanged at the bank. It was probably a huge tip, but Gerard figured it made up for his piss-poor French. They left with Anette holding on to his arm. Her body was so warm at the parts where her shoulder touched his. He could still smell her perfume underneath the smells of the restaurant. Was that creepy? He didn’t give a flying fuck right now if it was or not. 

They start wandering back towards the Eiffel Tower. “Blink?” Anette asked, looking up at him. 

“Hmm?” 

“This was… really great,” she said, smiling. Gerard swore his heart melted on the spot. “Like, amazing. We should do this again.”

“Come to Paris and eat snails?” he teased.

“Well, maybe not that specifically, but like… go out.” 

They’ve reached the base of the tower. “Yeah?” Gerard hoped his voice didn’t sound too hopeful or desperate. 

“Yeah. I’ll text you about it, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

They were so close to each other. Anette moved first, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Gerard awkwardly snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Then he teleported, bringing them back through space to the alley where they had originally departed. Back in Battery City. Back to reality, where she had to go work and he had to continue fighting bad guys. 

She let go, and so did he. He wanted to kiss her, oh so bad, but he resisted. She would have to make the first move on that one. “Bye, Blink. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” he responded weakly, and she left, the most beautiful woman in the world, leaving him in this dingy alley, his knees ready to give out.


	7. Six - Anette

_“February seventh, twenty-nineteen_

_Even more stunningly great news today._

_Apparently last night, The Snake was attacked. He’s in the hospital now, critical care. He doesn’t remember who attacked him, what they looked like, nothing. But he was poisoned, like Eon and Crucifix were. The only reason he’s still clinging to life is because his body is used to poison, but I guess not anything as powerful as this. No one knows if he’ll actually make it or not._

_We’ve got a serial killer on our hands, and we’re just sitting here, fucking robbing banks or whatever shit Blaze and Brute have in mind for their pointless lives. We need to be doing something, investigating._

_Starting tonight, we’re going to track this bastard down. I swear it.”_

-

“It’s been three weeks,” Anette said to Hailey, tucking her blonde hair into her mask. “And this guys isn’t cracking. What the hell does Chase expect from him? He’s only seen this guy once. Glimpsed him, from the looks of that video.”

“Yeah, I know. But Chase wants you to get him to spill it, and personally, I’d rather not make him mad. If nothing else because, well, my lab is pretty nice.”

“Gee, thanks,” Anette responded before pulling the mask down and entering the interrogation room.

Their resident had lost a lot of weight in his stay. That was probably due to a combination of both the extreme vomiting and the lack of food, only one of which was Anette’s fault. She wasn’t in charge of how they were taken care of. In fact, there were a lot of things she wasn’t allowed to do, and overseeing what was supposed to be her “specialty” was just another one of those things. 

“You’re back again,” the man noted, coughing and grinning. “Still at it, eh?”

“Naturally. I just have another question.”

“Well, you can certainly ask. You’ll probably just kiss me again.”

“Actually, I was hoping we could avoid that today. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I guess.” He grinned again, eyeing her tight outfit. She was used to this crap by now. “What’s the question?”

“We know for a fact you were there the night Magic died. We have a video tape.”

“What are you guys, the fuckin’ cops? I thought you were like, super villains.”

“Villains?” Anette laughed, high and breathy. “Hardly. I mean… some of us might have looser morals than others. But it’s not like we’re out to destroy the world. Actually, this time, we’re trying to save it, believe it or not.”

“So you’re… the good guys?”

“We’re the gray area.” Anette actually liked how that sounded. She smiled a little. “So. The night Magic died. Tell me about it.”

“Alright. I’ll tell you about it.” He clears his throat. “Right. So I’m in this alley, right? Somewhere downtown, don’t remember now, thanks to you. But I’m here, just getting my dose of grass from this stupid kid who doesn’t know his ass from the sidewalk. Then all of the sudden, we hear this god-awful screeching noise, and the kid bolts with my goods and my fucking cash. I turned to chase him, but then there’s more noises, and this guy pops out of a fucking limo. A limo! In the middle of the night!”

“Yeah, I saw that. What happened next?” This was excellent. The guy was on a roll. 

“Well, I thought I recognized him, so I kind of hid in the shadows. The limo pulls off, and this guy is just _standing_ there. Like, he’s expecting someone to meet him or pick him up or something. And that’s the next thing I know, I’m waking up in that alley behind a trashcan, Magic’s dead face plastered all over every piece of news in town.”

Anette was shocked. “You… fell asleep?”

“I think so,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “I mean, I don’t remember doing it. Weird, huh?” 

He way his face looks, Anette doesn’t know if he’s lying or not. 

“So I saw that guy that murdered Magic? Is that what this is?” 

“Can you tell us anything about him? Any physical features that stood out?”

“’S dark and he was across the street. Couldn’t see much.” He frowned a little, then shows his teeth again. “If I tell you, you’ll let me out, right?”

“After some verifications and a memory wipe, sure. Whatever you want.” 

He frowns again. “Memory wipe?”

“Just of your time here. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind that, give what you’ve gone through,” she added, smirking. 

He shifted uncomfortably in the metal seat. “Yeah, sure. Uh… well, suit. Nice, by the looks of it. Tall, broad shoulders. Darker hair, I think. Maybe. Couldn’t really tell by the light.”

Anette sighed internally. Really? That’s all this guy had to go on? And then she has a sudden thought. 

“What about… the limo? Anything about it? The driver?” 

“It came from south, from the financial district. Uh… the driver? I dunno, I didn’t really see him.” He was becoming reluctant again. 

“You sure? Because I think we could throw in some more _goods_ for when you wake up.” 

He perks up at that. “Right, no, the driver. Blondie. Had a beard. Kind of… burly looking. I saw him in the mirror.”

Anette’s lips spread wide across her face. “That’s all I needed. We’ll be sure to give you what you need.” She stood and crossed to the door, exiting with the smile still on her face. Hailey has a grim smile of her own.

“Chase isn’t going to be happy with the bribery.”

“Does it matter? I got him to talk. And we’ve got what we needed. _More_ than that. I got us a nice, solid lead.”

“Rather you tell him than me.”

“Alright, whatever. I’m not scared of Chase.”

That was a total lie, but it rolled off her tongue so easily it might as well have been true. Besides, the victory was overriding any terror Chase held over her. She practically ran up and down the stairs and into his office, bursting in on a conversation between himself and Andrew. 

“What is it, Death?” Chase asks irritably. Andrew stands by, not quite glaring at her but he might as well have been. “Did you get a name?”

“Not quite, but the next best thing. We know he took a limo the night before, and we know what the driver looks like. So all we have to do is trace the driver, and—”

“And what? Do what after that?”

Anette was caught off guard. “It’s a bit obvious, right? Just find out who the guys is and interrogate him. Or go through his logs. Probably both.”

“And in the meantime, this mysterious killer strikes again.” Chase ran his hands through his blonde hair. “Look Death, we can only cover for you for so long. I mean, if this guys kills again… who knows what will happen.”

Her jaw dropped in surprise. “What? Are you saying that… that if he kills again, you’re kicking me out?” She glared at him with everything she had, trying to burn holes into eyes that were already on fire. 

“I’m giving you incentive.” His voice was steady and cold. “This was your idea, after all. I didn’t want any part of it. I told you we should keep our noses out of this shit.”

“He killed my father,” Anette snarled, her hands tightening into fists. Andrew shifted his weight around, as if preparing to step into this argument. 

“What the fuck are you expecting me to do about that? Care?”

In one quick movement, Anette threw herself across the desk, knocking off all of Chase’s precious trinkets, and she had him pinned against the wall by his neck, her red lips hovering an inch or two away from his own thin, smirking ones. 

“Give me a reason,” she whispered, her breath blowing over his face. “One. Fucking. Reason. And I’ll end you.”

“That’s cute.” Chases’ eyes taunted her, and she let Andrew rip her off of him and throw her across the room. She slammed into the wall with a thud, but she barely felt it. She was far too enraged to feel anything at the moment. 

“Your mind games don’t work on me, Death,” Chase continued, walking around his desk to stand over her. “I think you’d best reserve those for Blink, don’t you? After all, if you don’t get what you need from him soon, who knows how alive you’ll be.” 

Anette pulled herself up to standing and marched out the door, not bothering to even look back at her so-called _leader_. No matter how many pretty things he bought her, or even if he was actually the one that pulled her off the streets, put a roof over her head and food in her stomach, there was one thing he couldn’t buy. 

Her loyalty.


	8. Seven - Gerard

**BRANDT:** _So, what about the guys you fight? Are they just as good as you? Or maybe better?_

 **PSYCH:** _[he snorts] As if. I assume you’re asking about the Victors? I mean, they’re good, yeah. They’re all pretty talented, but they can’t really function as a group. We’ve got the upper hand there._

 **BRANDT:** _So you’re admitting to being weaker?_

 **PSYCH:** _Not exactly. What we lack in… Hero power, I guess is the term, we make up for in teamwork. You wanna know why we always beat them?_

 **BRANDT:** _If you’re prepared to disclose your secrets on daytime television. [laugh]_

 **PSYCH:** _Only if you insist. No, truth is… I think they’re just this dysfunctional bunch, held together by some sort of fake bond, and the second that bond is broken, it’s going to be like smashing a pumpkin after Halloween – the pieces are going to go flying everywhere._

-

It was Friday morning, and Anette was five minutes late. 

In the whole time Gerard had worked here and she had been coming to get her morning drink, she had never once been late. Gerard wouldn’t have cared too much if the time hadn’t trickled to eight thirty, eight thirty three…

Finally, Anette entered the shop, her clothes a bit rumpled, her hair pinned back from her pale face messily. Gerard was about to ask if she wanted the usual when she said, “No, I want coffee today. Mocha with a shot of espresso.” Her makeup wasn’t as precise as usual today, and her red lipstick was missing. 

Gerard made the drink quickly and passed it to her, pushing buttons on the register. “3.75. Espresso is on the house,” he said with a small smile, which she returned as she paid. Gerard glanced around before joining her at the table closest to the counter. “Rough morning?”

“Rough night,” she corrected as she sat down, blowing on the coffee before taking a sip. “I had a lot of trouble getting to sleep.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, frowning. “Anything happen specifically?”

“I just… worked late. My boss is kind of a dick.” She took another drink, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. “He just… urgh. Apparently, no matter what I do, I can’t ever do my job right. He threatened to fire me last night after I _did my job_ , but apparently, _not well enough_. It’s just… stupid.”

“Sounds like it.” Gerard wished he had something more helpful to say. “I get it, though. I’ve had jobs like that.”

“Yeah.” Anette’s voice was far off as she stared at the tabletop between them. The door opened, and a customer walked in, making Gerard groan.

“Dammit. Hey, how about we go out again soon? Maybe just to dinner somewhere in the city.”

“Sure. That sounds great.” She smiled at him as he stood. “I’ll text you about it later.”

“Cool.”

“And thanks for the discount. You really didn’t have to.”

Gerard smiled back at her, in what he was sure must have been something awkward compared to how she does it. 

“No problem. Have a good day, okay?”

“Thanks. You, too.”

By the time he got behind the counter again to take the man’s order, she was out the door and walking down the street, and Gerard’s mind followed her into the morning sunlight. 

-

“Will they ever just give the fuck up?”

Frank was super irritated when he set down his freshly made mug of coffee. It was about eight at night, and they’d had the police scanner on as usual when they heard the report of a robbery going on at a bank across town. 

“Come on, it’s the Victors, and you know we’re the only ones who are going to beat them,” Mikey said, his jacket already on and his mask in his hand. “Besides, we know now that they’re actually improving, so we’ll be on our guard this time.”

“As long as I get to take my fucking coffee, we’re good,” Frank grumbled, pouring the drink into a travel mug. 

“Let’s go guys, they’re gonna be gone by the time we get there,” Ray urged, and everyone scrambled to get their things. 

“I’m going to go stake out the place. Which one is it?” Gerard asked, setting his mask on his face. 

“It’s the Wells Fargo over on 290th and Washington,” Noel replied. She was all ready to go, and she and Ray left to start the car. 

“See you guys there,” Gerard said, before focusing himself and teleporting to the street corner opposite the bank. In the window, he saw a glimpse of two men, one hulking one and a tall athletic one: Brute and Blaze. 

‘ _Just Brute and Blaze for now, but there could be others,_ ’ he told Mikey, who was usually listening. Gerard checked his mask and zipped up his blue and red jacket before drawing out a knife and teleporting over to another hiding spot closer to the door. The glass had been kicked in but the alarm was longer blaring. At least they hadn’t been stupid and robbed it in broad daylight, but the traffic in downtown was probably slowing down the cops. Gerard had to hand it to the Victors; they were getting pretty good at orchestrating these robberies. 

Then he saw a female in a purple jacket get out of a van not far from him and sprint inside – Einstein. Gerard decided to creep towards their vehicle, wanting to disable it if possible. He checked the bank for anyone watching him before he teleported to the driver side door, still crouching in case anyone was inside. He glanced in, found it to be empty, and yanked the door open. Inside, there was a lot of surveillance equipment in the back along with some empty bags. Gerard assumed that they’re for money and determined he only had a minute or so to do this. He looked around frantically, searching for something to do to this car. He would just drive it off somewhere, but he can’t drive a stick shift and anyways, he didn’t exactly have his license. So instead, he ripped the keys out of the ignition and slinked out the door again, that way they would at least be stalled when they tried to make their get-away. 

He heard a crash inside the building and the screeching of tires a few blocks away. Gerard started for the door, knife at the ready, and saw Bob there, hovering above Blaze, dodging fireballs from his opponent’s hand. Einstein and the rest of their gang was no where to be seen, but Brute was coming at Bob from behind, making like he planned on yanking him down—

Gerard teleported right behind Brute and slashed at his back, cutting through his shirt and into the thick muscles of his back, and he howled in pain. He turned to thrash at Gerard, but Gerard jumped back. As long as he could handle Brute, he and Bob could feasibly keep them busy until the rest of the Killjoys got here in the car. 

“Come back here you fucking coward!” Brute yelled, lunging at Gerard, who waited until the last possible moment to teleport away and on top of a counter, laughing. 

“Too slow!” Gerard taunted, grinning at Brute’s fury. Brute charged him again, trying to bring his fist down on Gerard’s foot, but Gerard teleported away to another spot and Brute smashed the counter in half. 

‘ _This guy is unreal,_ ’ Gerard commented, trying to catch his breath. He needed to stop teleporting so much, otherwise he wasn’t going to have enough strength to get home. 

‘ _Who, me?_ ’ Mikey replied with false flattery, and Gerard looked up to see his brother leading the other three into the bank. Frank charged ahead, throwing a bolt of electricity at Blaze. Gerard was about to call out to them when Brute’s fist collided with his stomach and he flew into a wall with a crunch. Gerard’s vision went dark for a second as he tried to breathe, his lungs aching with every attempt. When he could finally see straight again, Noel and Ray had started their assault on Brute and Mikey was gone, presumably to go find Einstein before she could crack open the vault. Gerard got up shakily, clutching his broken ribs. His head spun, and he thought he saw Bob descend to give Blaze a good kick in the chest, sending him into a potted plant. Frank grabbed him and sent jolts through his body, rendering him unconscious. One down, two to go, at least that they knew of. 

Gerard started for the back area where he guessed Mikey and Einstein would be, and just as he made a turn towards some cubicles, Einstein swooshed past him and smashed down a divider. Mikey dropped to his knees not far from where Gerard was, panting but looking satisfied. Gerard rushed to him, ready to defend his brother. 

“Did you throw her with your mind?” he asked, incredulous. He knows Mikey has been working on making his telekinetic powers stronger, but this is unexpected. 

“Finally,” Mikey grunted, standing to join his brother. “She was on a computer, so I caught her off-guard. Dunno what she was doing.”

They watched Einstein struggle to her feet, throwing her long dark hair out of her face. They didn’t have much defense against her gun, but Gerard’s hand twitched closer to Mikey’s, ready to grab him and teleport them away and a moments notice. 

She was quite the quick-draw. She had just aimed her gun when Gerard grabbed Mikey’s arm and moved them out of the way of the blast, landing back in the lobby. Brute was still fighting, Ray had been knocked out, and Noel and Bob were both bleeding quite a lot. Einstein was running for it, yelling, “Let’s go, Brute!” She surprised Bob and grabbed his wing, ripping some of the longer feathers out. Bob yelled in pain and twisted away from her, but she was already jumping through the hole in the glass with a handful of feathery down clutched tight in her hand. Brute tried to go for his fallen comrade, but Frank threw one last bolt from his hands and disabled Brute’s outstretched arm, rendering it useless. Police sirens wailed outside, but Frank collapsed from exhaustion and Noel rushed to see if he was okay. 

“Come on, I grabbed their keys, we could still get these guys,” Gerard said to his brother, and they jumped out the broken door together. They saw police lights just down the block from them, and the Victor’s van still where it was parked. Mikey reached the door first, trying to yank it open. Gerard heard them yelling at each other in muffled voices and the rumble of an engine trying to start. He didn’t account for Einstein to probably have an extensive knowledge of hotwiring. 

The engine started and they peeled away from the curb. Gerard grabbed Mikey around his waist so he won’t go flying away with the van right as the police made it to the curb and started piling out of cars. 

“That’s The Victors!” Mikey yelled, pointing after the car. One of the police cruisers broke away to give chase, but the van already had quite a bit of a head start and they both disappeared around the corner. 

Gerard and Mikey both sat on the curb, panting. Neither of them noticed until now how exhausted they were, but considering how much effort they just put into the fight, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

“Why only three of them?” Mikey asked, running his hand along the stubble on his chin. “I mean, where are they other ones? Out on a coffee run?”

Gerard scoffed. “Dunno. But it wasn’t money they were after this time. And why did Einstein grab off a big chunk of B—Halcyon’s feathers?”

Mikey shook his head, massaging his temples now. “I don’t fucking know. We never know what the hell they’re planning and it bugs the shit out of me.”

“Same, bro. But we’ll figure it out.”

“I just… if they’re the ones who’ve been killing Heroes, and they’re after Halcyon next—”

“We’ll stop them,” Gerard said firmly. “We always do.”

They sat quietly for a minute, listening to the noise of cops and their comrades inside of the broken bank. 

“Shall we hand over our prisoner to the cops?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

They stood and limped inside to begin clean up so they can all go home and synthesize the new information they had learned.


	9. Eight

_“February twenty-third, twenty nineteen_

_It’s been over a month and I still haven’t made any progress trying to get a cure for Anette’s poison. I’ve never had a challenge this intense, so it’s actually kind of fun in a twister science way, but… I’m frustrated. I should have had this down ages ago. I’ve never taken this long to solve a simple problem like this in my life. Then again, maybe I was underestimating the complexity of her poison._

_So far, all I’ve determined is that the poison wasn’t inherent in Anette’s DNA. She herself has been poisoned, but instead of dying, her body weaponized the invader. But now the question is who poisoned her in the first place?_

_I still haven’t decided if I should tell her this or not. It is her body, but I’m more worried about the psychological damage this could cause her. She’s basically accepted that she was born with this, so I don’t know what this would do to her. Maybe one day, I’ll let her know. But until now, I’m going to encrypt my video blogs so there’s no chance of anyone finding out what I’ve discovered.”_

-

“God fucking dammit Andrew, what the fuck was that?” 

Anette could hear Hailey yelling from the entrance after it sounded like she kicked open the door. 

“I could say the same to you? What was that shit you pulled?”

“YOU LEFT CHASE THERE!” Hailey screamed at full volume, and now Will and Dawn were running up the stairs to spectate. “WE NEVER LEAVE SOMEONE BEHIND!”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE GRABBED HIM, YOU STUPID BITCH!”

Andrew’s face was red and Anette saw veins popping in his neck. She wasn’t sure if she could intervene or not, but before she could come up with a plan, Dawn had thick veins rooting both Hailey and Andrew to the spot and Will had ripped Hailey’s gun and Andrew’s knife out of their holsters using his powers. 

“Jesus, quit fighting you two. Shit happens. It’s not like Chase _isn’t_ familiar with a jail cell,” Will said. Anette saw Andrew cringing from Will not using Hero names, but with Chase gone, no one except maybe Andrew was going to follow the rule. “Besides, he’s not going to talk.”

Anette’s phone started ringing, and she looked at the caller ID. It was a number she shouldn’t be familiar with but unfortunately was – Battery City Police Department. 

“Hang on, I bet this is Chase,” she said before answering it. “Hello?”

“Uh, hey Mom.”

“Chase, is this you?” Anette rolled her eyes. His need to maintain cover was borderline ridiculous. 

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m in trouble again, and I need you to send the lawyer to come get me.”

And by lawyer, he meant her, Anette. 

“Alright. How much is bail this time?”

“Seven thousand.”

“Seven _thousand?_ ” Anette repeated, and everyone else in the room looked at her with wide eyes. “Holy _shit_ Chase!” 

“I know Mom, I’m sorry. Can you get me out soon?” 

Anette shut her eyes for a moment to breathe, mostly so that she wouldn’t explode with anger. “Alright. I’ll go grab a taxi and be there soon. You at the main station?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

She hung up and shoved her phone in her pocket before grabbing her purse off the couch where she had been reading earlier. 

“Anette, go down and grab his money. This is his fault,” Hailey advised, still immobilized by Dawn’s vines. 

“Like hell it is, it’s _your_ fault!” Andrew spat. 

“Scratch that, grab _Andrew’s_ money, since he’s the dipshit reason Chase got caught.”

“I’ll just use my money, okay?” Anette snapped before she left, her heavy footsteps echoing on the metal stairs she climbed to get out. She had to walk a few blocks to get to a street that was busy enough she could hail a cab, and then she was on her way. 

Anette let the cab driver know where she was going and then settled in to the shabby back seat for an inevitably long ride. The police headquarters, where Chase was being held, was in the middle of downtown, a good twenty miles away. Life would be much easier if he had been at the Middleton station, which was only a few miles away from the hideout, but since he was a Hero, he had to be at HQ. They had special cells there for people with powers, which had been built in the early 2000’s, when powers first started appearing and a notorious villain named Carney destroyed the original headquarters single-handedly. Chase would probably be in the ceramic room, one designed to be fire-proof and even included six inches of water on the floor and lots of sprinklers overhead so he could be doused any time. Anette had only ever seen this cell and the one made almost entirely out of titanium, which Andrew had been held in before. She didn’t want to know what other kinds of cells they had in the building. 

Her phone started buzzing again, and Anette was about to get extremely irritated when she saw that it was just a text from Blink. She smiled and swiped across her screen to read the message.

_Hey Anette! How do you feel about a pizza date for dinner tomorrow?_

Tomorrow. Did she have anything going to tomorrow? She didn’t think so. 

_Yeah, that sounds great. Where do you want to meet and what time?_

It took him a little while to text her back. 

_Uhhh, how about that place on 117th and Madison? Thin Slice or whatever?_

Anette laughed. 

_You mean Slice of New York? Sure, 7:30?_

_Yeah, that place. Okay, see you tomorrow night then._

She locked her phone and gazed out the window. Why had she been so happy to get his text message? Probably because it wasn’t Chase, and that tomorrow night, she wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else except Blink. Still… Anette couldn’t deny the tiny bit of joy in her mind. She shook her head in a vain attempt to get him out of her head. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was a _target_ , nothing more. She wasn’t allowed to actually like him. Things would get out of hand if she did. 

As the cab approached the police station, Anette made sure to transfer the money into her checking account and started writing a check. So much for her savings. 

She paid the driver and walked inside the station, trying to quell her building anger. Under other circumstances, Anette would have been a bit intimidated when walking, as a criminal, into a police station, but she was simply annoyed with how long it took the front desk attendant to look up Chase for her, found the beefy guards to be laughable, and fantasized briefly about how she could probably get away with taking out Chase in a moment’s notice right under everyone’s noses. After fussing over the check for a few minutes with an officer, and then waiting for almost twenty minutes for them to fetch Chase and for him to change, the two were finally walking out of the station and Anette was hailing another cab. 

“Thank you,” Chase finally said when they were settled and on their way home. “I appreciate it.”

“You owe me the money back. That was my entire savings,” Anette replied sharply, not looking up from her phone. 

“Alright.”

The rest of the ride was spent in uncomfortable silence. Anette could tell that he wanted to talk more, but she didn’t care. He had the nerve to tell her he was going to dump her on the streets for not doing her job well enough, and then call her up and beg for help when he lost. What a load of bullshit. 

The second they arrived at the grocery store that was only a block away from the hideout, Anette got out, leaving Chase to pay for the cab. She walked much quicker than him, despite being in heels, and was punching in the code at the door before he could make it around the corner. Anette started straight for Hailey’s lab, not bothering to turn back when Chase called after her. As far as she was concerned, he could just go fuck himself. 

“Well, your hands aren’t covered in blood, so I can only assume that Chase lived through the cab ride back,” Hailey said when Anette shut the door to the lab with a loud _thud_. 

“I wish I could have just slit his throat,” Anette muttered, flopping down on a stool and running her hands through her hair. “I really fucking hate him some times.”

“Whoa, Anette, language. You’re supposed to be a lady, remember?” Hailey joked. “But seriously, he’s got some balls calling _you_ for help.”

They were quiet for a moment as Hailey continued tapping away on her keyboard, starting up her data analysis. “What’s that for?” Anette asked, glancing over at the screen. 

“I’m running a DNA check on Halcyon,” Hailey responded as she hit the go button and the programs started running at their full capacities. “I’ve got a couple theories about this limo driver and maybe, just maybe, our, uh, super villain.”

“Lay it on me,” Anette said, straightening up and scooting closer to the table that separated them. 

“Alright, so you remember how our lovely guest described him? _Blonde, bit of a beard, kind of burly?_ Sound like anyone we know?”

“Halcyon?” Anette guessed. 

“That’s what I thought. So I started running some checks, after I hacked the state’s Hero registry, of course,” Hailey continued, pulling out a clipboard with several papers attached. “His real name is Bob Bryar, and guess where he works as a cover?”

Anette smiled. “As a limo driver.”

“Convenient, right? So I wanted to double-check. Of all the limo drivers in the city, which in case you’re wondering, there are one hundred and eighty-seven, thirty-four of them fit the description. I of course narrowed the search by age, otherwise there would have been a lot more.” She glanced at her computer screen, but it was still searching. “So that wasn’t terribly helpful. So I started looking into the company he works for. It’s incredibly confidential, which was encouraging, because they only cater to high-class celebrities and people who don’t want to be tracked.”

“That sounds perfect for our villain.”

Hailey smiled. “Oh, that’s not even the best part. I hacked them, too—”

“Who _didn’t_ you hack?”

“The CIA. Wait. Okay, not them _this_ time. Anyways, this company, which is just called Chauffer, only lists clients by initials and their travel itinerary. No phone numbers, emails, full names… nothing. Totally confidential.”

Anette frowned. “Well, shit.”

“Ah, but you’re forgetting, I have the security tape from outside Magic’s building,” Hailey said, a smirk on her face, and she pushed the clipboard to Anette. “Luckily, it recorded the date and time.”

Anette’s eyes scanned over the clipboard, but the highlighted lines catch her gaze. “Is this a… driver schedule?”

“Yes it is.”

“And… is that… ? That’s Halcyon, or Bob, who was driving the limo in the video.”

“Yes it was.”

“And it says…” It took Anette a minute to get her brain to cooperate, but the letters straightened themselves out. “O.B. was renting at the time.”

“And that’s our latest mystery,” Hailey said, accepting the paperwork back from Anette. “Figuring out who our O.B. is. There are only a few candidates, which is good, but we have to be absolutely sure before we make a move. Otherwise, who knows what will happen to us.” Hailey’s expression was dead serious. “Oliver and Orion Brandt, brothers, the Chief of Police and the most popular late-night talk show host in the city.”

“Oh God.” It suddenly dawned on Anette how big this was. 

“So we have two probable yet also improbable suspects, and no way of telling who it might be.”

“Unless we—”

Anette was cut off my Hailey’s computer beeping, the search finished. Hailey turned to examine it, and sighed. “Yeup. It’s confirmed with the DNA match. Halcyon is Bob Bryar, who drove this O.B. person the night Magic was killed.”

“We have to kidnap him then. Interrogate him.”

“Looks like it.”

They were silent while Hailey tied her hair up in a ponytail. “Alright, Anette. I’m going to think on this, get a plan together. There’ll be a meeting soon. I’ll text you about it.”

“Okay.”

Anette took this as her cue to leave, and shut the lab door carefully behind her before making her way back upstairs and walking through the night to her apartment.


End file.
